Clara's Sad
by xoOhMyStarsxo
Summary: Clara has a depressive episode on-board the Tardis .


Clara knows why this is happening to her, it doesn't mean she understands it. She doesn't understand why it's so random and why her brain makes her do strange things. Today she's reading a book in the Tardis library when she gets that heavy feeling in her chest and she knows she's going to cry, she pushes it aside for a while but when she finishes her chapter, she can feel tears making their way down her face. She stands up and paces for a while, it doesn't help, in fact it makes her all the more anxious. She takes a deep breath and sits back down, she's anxious now too. She turns off all the lights around her. She likes having the room dark, she doesn't know where the Doctor is but it gives her time to come up with an excuse if he came in, he wouldn't be able to instantly see that she was crying. She positions herself on the floor between the two sofas lies down and stares up at the ceiling; she flexes her arms in front of her. Sometimes it calms her, to see nothing and she hopes today will be one of those days.

She's tired, she's always tired but today she feels more so but she doesn't want to sleep. Not yet anyway. Her mind is far too unsettled for sleep, she'd have one of her disturbing dreams and she didn't want to deal with them around the Doctor, they messed her head up for the next day, turning her into more of a numb mess than she normally was. She hates herself. She runs her fingers over the faint remains of scars on the top of her arm; she doesn't want to do that. It's been a very long time since she did that and she's stronger now, isn't she? Sometimes she doesn't know.

"Clara" She lifts her head to see The Doctor in front of her, even in the darkness she can see his face is one of concern "Are you hurt?"

Clara shakes her head, what must she look like to him, lying on the floor. "Are you sure?"

She nods; she finds words won't come to her right now. She had for now, stopped crying but if she tried to speak she knew her tears would return. Why is this happening to her now? Her depression had a lovely way of rearing itself at the most inconvenient of times; the only benefit was that it made her a more impressive liar. The amount of times she'd had some form of breakdown just before The Doctor arrived which she'd managed to brush off and seem cheerful enough to please him.

She let her head drop back to the floor and exhaled heavily. She closed her eyes and began playing with the top strands of her hair. The floor creaked as the Doctor sat down next to her.

"Attempting to stargaze without stars" She says, trying to add some humour to the situation but her words catch in her throat as she says them. Be strong Clara, she tells herself, don't cry now.

"I could give you stars, if you want" The Doctor doesn't know what she's doing, in fact her behaviour is slightly worrying him.

She shakes her head. She puts her own arm over her stomach in an attempt to comfort herself, only she can comfort herself right now. If he attempted to, she'd cry. She oddly feels comfortable; she's probably more likely to fall asleep here than in her own bed, her anxiety would come back to her there, if she attempted to put pressure on herself to sleep. She needed to drift off to sleep naturally and that wouldn't happen in a bed.

"What have you been doing?" He asks, after what has been a long period of silence in which he wonders if she might be asleep.

"I was reading" She doesn't bother to open her eyes.

"In the dark?" He questions.

"I made it dark"

"Why?"

She shrugs; she doesn't have the energy to go into that conversation right now. She'd sound insane anyway. _The dark makes my mind settle because sometimes it's so loud that I can barely breathe but at the same time it doesn't say anything. It's just too prominent._ That's the truth of it, Clara doesn't even know what that means and she scoffs because it's so ridiculous. Her behaviour right now is so ridiculous and he must be concerned, he must be, he hasn't said it but Clara knows that if she walked and saw the Doctor doing this then she'd be incredibly concerned.

"Please don't worry about me, I'll be ok soon"

"So you're not ok?"

She doesn't say anything, she can't lie at this stage but she can't admit it either. It would take all of her mental strength to not completely fall apart if she did.

"You could tell me what's wrong, if you think it would help"

She shakes her head again "No, but thank you"

"Do you want me to go?"

"No" It is in some way comforting her to have him here, any human would not put up with her behaviour right now, it is in these types of situations that she's glad that he's an alien.

"Can I help?"

"No" She hasn't noticed that her grip around herself has gotten tighter, the hand that had been playing with her hair has also fallen onto her stomach. She knows her mind wants to speak but she doesn't know what to say. Nothing makes sense to her, and so she says that.

"Nothing makes sense" It's the vaguest thing she could say and she knows it raises more questions than answers them but it's all she can think to say.

"Has something happened to you?"

She smiles a little, he probably thinks that she's had this done to her by some sort of alien and in an odd way she wishes it had, it would be better than this being self-inflicted .Her vision's getting blurry and her head is starting to hurt, it happens to her when she stays in the same position for a long time. She places both of her hands on the arm rests of the sofas and lifts her head up. She lets out a wince in pain; her head is too heavy to hold itself up so she lets it fall against the side of the sofa. This is not a nice feeling. She feels like how she does when she's had too much to drink, her mind's not working properly and her body won't work to her wishes. She turns and presses her face into the arm rest, it's dangerous to allow herself this much comfort. The material feels soft against her face and she wants to cry again.

" Dear god what is happening to me" She says aloud , this is one of the worst breakdowns she's had , not in terms of how much pain she feels but because it's so slow to happen , she hasn't hit the crucial point of it yet , she knows that . She's had enough of them by now to know how they work , sometimes they just sort of fade after a while without any form of real impact but this has gone on too long for this to be like that . She could be in for a long haul here, a few hours atleast.

She wants to be hugged, but she can't let him hug her. She pulls herself right up to the edge of the sofa and places her arm on the body of it. She buries her head once again into the arm rest and lets out a loud sob. It only lasts for two minutes, her little outburst and so she screams in frustration.

"What do you want from me?" She screams into the air. Yep this is a particularly bad one.

The Doctor is staring at her in confusion, he has no idea what is happening to her. He wants to comfort her but he doesn't know what she needs right now.

She leans back against the other sofa and brings her knees up to her chest, she runs her hands over her eyes and her gaze falls to the faint scar on her arm again. Maybe she should do that, she doesn't know how else this feeling was going to go away.

"Don't" She turns to the Doctor, she'd actually forgotten he was here "Don't do that"

"How do you know what that is?"

" It's a lasting one , if you'd been in an accident to make that happen then I'd have noticed as some other part of you would probably be injured too . Serious accidents cause serious scars so logically it has to be self-inflicted"

He's too smart for his own good, Clara decides. "Why?" He asks.

She looks away from him "I'm not sure, I don't know what else to do sometimes"

"Can't you drink or do something less permanent?"

She laughs a little "Drink causes you damage too"

"Only if you over indulged"

"Trust me, I would. I have done on many occasions. It's not enough sometimes Doctor" This is dangerous territory, she needs to stop talking.

She feels for the packet of cigarettes she hides in her blouse pocket, she really wants one right now "You can if you want" The Doctor is watching her.

"Thank you" She takes them out and lights one, she has something else to focus on now. She can focus on the smoke swirling in the air as it settles over the room. She can focus on the feeling of warmth in her fingers and she focuses on the taste of it as it lingers on her tongue. The problem is that smoking makes her want to drink, for some reason it makes her want whiskey. She contemplates asking the Doctor for a long time if he has any , he might do , given as this incarnation of him has a Scottish accent and whiskey is a very popular drink in that part of the world .

She feels slightly better after her cigarette but not well enough to be ok. "What time is it?"

" It's late Clara" She guesses it must be , that's probably why she feels so tired but she can't sleep , not yet and that's why she shouldn't drink either because if she does , she knows that she'll never sleep but god it seemed like an attractive idea right now . "Why did you smoke?" He moves to lean against the back of the sofa as well.

"It relaxes me"

"So you're stressed?"

She scoffs "Evidently, unless you think this type of behaviour is normal"

"I don't really know what your behaviour is Clara"

"I'm sorry; you can leave if you want. You don't have to stay with me; I don't know how long this will last"

She taps her feet on the floor, it makes her anxious again but at this stage she's incredibly bored. She needs to do something, she moves to sit on the sofa, he doesn't follow her. She curls her legs under herself.

"You look tired Clara"

"I am tired, but I can't sleep. Not yet"

"You could try"

She smiles down at him, he doesn't understand. How can she expect him to when she barely understands this herself? She feels sick suddenly, like there's pressure on her stomach. She gags a few times; she knows nothing will come out of her which makes this particular element of her breakdown more frustrating.

"Sorry" She apologises to him.

"It's ok"

She realises that all her mind is doing is describing exactly what she's doing , so logically if she does nothing her mind should be blank and she could sleep but it's not that simple . Her mind obsesses over the fact she's not doing anything.

"I'm driving myself insane"

"Is there anything you want to do?"

"Sleep" She laughs "But I can't"

The Doctor moves himself next to her and puts an arm around her shoulders. She feels strong enough to allow herself to relax into him without crying. She reaches out for his hand "You feel warm"

In stark contrast Clara feels freezing, her hand is ice cold to touch "Why were you lying on the floor?" He finally asks her, it's the question he'd wanted to ask since the minute he walked in but he sensed it wasn't the right time.

"I thought it might make me calm"

"But it didn't"

She shook her head and moved his arm around her waist; she nuzzled her head into the side of his neck.

"Sorry I know this must make you uncomfortable"

"It's ok, you need it don't you Clara?"

She closed her eyes, her vision becoming blurry "I do" She answers tiredly, she can feel sleep beginning to overcome her "I'm sorry"

"It's ok and it is ok to be sad Clara"

"I don't feel like it is" She yawned "Not this sad anyway"

"I'm always around you know"

"I know, thank you. It's too hard to talk about what's happening to me, I don't understand it" Clara felt a tear fall down her face.

He stroked the side of her face "I know you don't want to cry so calm down and try to go to sleep"

She placed her arm across him and sighed contently, she was fast asleep a few minutes later, soft snores escaping her lips. The Doctor moved her head onto his shoulder so he could kiss the top of her head "I will always be here for you Clara, always"


End file.
